


Sometimes Things Go Boom

by NervousAsexual



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Old Married Couple, Post-Canon, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-07 11:29:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14670153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NervousAsexual/pseuds/NervousAsexual
Summary: Many years after the breach is sealed, Sera and Dagna keep house together in the Hinterlands.And yes, sometimes things explode.(a treat for coveredinfeels)





	Sometimes Things Go Boom

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coveredinfeels](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coveredinfeels/gifts).



As the sun went down over the Hinterlands, Sera rocked and knitted.

She didn't knit socks, or sweaters, or baby boots or scarves or wool underpants. And technically she didn't actually knit. People who knitted used things like yarn, needles, stitches. Patterns.

So what Sera did probably would not be called "knitting." "Tangling stuff," maybe. Or "making a mess." But it might have been knitting.

Also she wasn't using yarn, she was using bits of rashvine nettle with the leaves clipped off and trying to weave a cloth that she could sell to the rich and arsehole-like as fancy new type of underpants. It would be amazing.

The only problem was it made her hands sting like all get-out. Or it had at first. Now she couldn't feel her hands at all, and this seemed slightly worrying. Not that she worried. But Dagna might. Dagna did worry sometimes.

So Sera set aside her knitting, tangling, weaving mess, and sat back in her chair and rocked.

It had been years since the sky ripped open and Sera had helped to fix it. And yes, Dagna had helped too.

Dagna.

Little dwarfy-dwarf with the big nose. A good nose, that one. Just the right size for giving her a kiss on. Not that the rest of her wasn't kissable. It was. It sure was.

Off in the distance a little stumpy figure approached through the field of wheat some jerk had planted there. Dagna? Probably Dagna.

Her hair had gone grey over the years (Sera's hadn't. And anybody who said it had was a dead oaf walking) but it happened either real suddenly or real slowly and Sera hadn't noticed at first. When she noticed it she thought it was a trick of the light--Dagna was trying to install some experimental runes she'd made up, just like that, into a bow and some runes did that glowy thing so of course Dagna would look all silvery.

But immediately after she thought this Dagna tapped the rune funny or something because it blew up and burned a hole through the floor, leaving Dagna with a look of such singed shock that it wasn't until after she'd stopped rolling around on the floor laughing that Sera realized it wasn't the rune that made Dagna's hair so silvery.

Not that it concerned her! Dagna was yay-high and made of stone. Sera had no doubt that when the Maker came knocking around looking for old people she herself would be the first to go. And Dagna's hair had changed so quickly or slowly (slow? or quick?) that she might as well have always had it.

Now the figure was closer and she could see that yup, it was Dagna trotting across the field. Sera couldn't help but feel a bit smug. That was her dwarfy-dwarf. Her always adventurous, occasionally explosive, weird for a dwarf dwarf.

One time back when the sky was still ripped open, when the Inquisitor took Sera and Vivienne out with her on a trip through the Hissing Wastes to go fill up their bags with Deathroots for whatever reason, Vivienne asked her did she think her fondness for Dagna stem from the fact that Dagna by choosing to abandon her caste to study with the Circle of Mages had rejected her dwarveness the way in much the same way that Sera continued to reject her elveness? Then Sera told her to frig off and put lizards in her bedroll. Teach her to muck around in other people's heads.

Way off in the distance somebody, or a lot of somebodies, were rolling in from Redcliffe Village, probably. They were whooping and hollering and it was more than a little annoying. Sera would have shot an arrow over to them with a jar of bees attached to shut them up, but Dagna complained when she upset the Redcliffe Villagers too much.

Not that she personally cared about the Redcliffe Villagers. Those weirdos let mages run amuck in there and anybody who did that obviously didn't have too tight a grasp on their survival instinct. But Dagna liked them. She said they were good solid people who didn't get carried away when they saw somebody who wasn't just like them. Sera wasn't too sure about that, but Dagna liked them and Sera liked Dagna.

Also her hands were still numb from the nettles, but that was beside the point.

She waved to Dagna and Dagna waved back.

"I brought cookies," Dagna called. She extracted a little packet from her pack and waved it above her head. "With the beechnuts you like! The kind from the baker!"

Sera frowned a little to herself at first--she still had complicated emotions about cookies, and cookies from a baker were expensive, weren't they, and sometimes things that were expensive were worse. But then she thought to herself that her dwarfy-dwarf bought her cookies, the fancy kind, on account of she liked her so much. And Sera? Sera liked her too.

"I have to tell you something, though." Dagna drew in close now and Sera could see she had a sheepish grin on her face. "I did end up going to pick up a new batch of lyrium. No, stop pouting, that's not the thing I have to tell you. It's..." Dagna frowned and her forehead wrinkled and Sera thought that made her look distinguished but cute all at the same time. "Uh... well..."

She stepped aside and behind her, following so close Sera hadn't even seen, was a mage. A tiny mage. The tiniest mage Sera had ever seen.

"She was lurking around the shop when I got the lyrium," Dagna said quickly. "I gave her one of the cookies and she followed me home."

A tiny mage. In Sera's home. Even worse, a tiny mage who didn't look to be more than six or seven. Probably didn't even know how to not blow up things. Sera stared at the tiny mage, and the tiny mage, gnawing on a beechnut cookie, stringy human hair all in her face, stared back.

As she stared Dagna opened her mouth and asked exactly what Sera was afraid she would ask.

"Can we keep her?" Dagna asked. "I'll take care of her and she can help with both of our work and won't be any trouble at all."

Sera sat back in her chair and kept rocking. This was not what she had pictured when she pictured getting a pet. A nug, maybe, to remind Dagna of the thaigs. Maybe a mabari to bite the breeches clean off rich sons-of-arsenuts. But a human? A little mage human?

Dagna gave her the biggest saddest pleadingest eyes it was even possible to make, and Sera realized, not for the first time, that she was the biggest sucker in all of Thedas.

"Oh, alright." She flapped a slightly less-numb hand at the tiny mage. "Get her a big thwapping stick. Rich tits ain't gonna thwap themselves."

But Dagna shook her head.

"Hang on," she said, checking her pocketwatch. "Speaking of "rich tits," the caravan that followed me out of the village, they were some gentlemen from Denerim come to collect taxes."

Hmm. So it was the rich tits doing all that whooping and hollering, hmm? Sera glared off at the caravan, now receding into the distance. She was ready to shoot them, except of course her hands were still all sting-y from the nettles. What a waste. She didn't even get to give them her fancy new nettle-pants.

"Wait for it," Dagna instructed Sera and the tiny mage. "Three... two..."

In the distance there was a small muffled explosion and the carrying-on out in the caravan turned to hysterics. Sera squinted and leaned back and forth, trying to catch a glipse of what was going on out there.

"A little too early," Dagna said, "but closer."

"What was that?" She could barely make out the caravan, but there seemed to be a lot of screaming and rushing about going on.

Dagna grinned at her.

"Bees," she said. "In jars."

"Bee jars?" Sera imagined the bigwigs with angry bees chasing them down the road, all the way back to Denerim.

"I had an idea for a clockwork mechanism to delay the ignition point on mines 'til a certain period of time had passed. I thought I'd give it a try on one of your bee jars, just to get a feel if it would work for other types of grenades too."

"Bees!" the tiny mage shouted happily.

"Of course I was concerned they might hear the bees before the mechanism triggered the jar to break." Dagna impatiently brushed her silvery hair out of her eyes and pulled a sheaf of papers from her pack. She showed them to Sera. "But it seemed as good a place as any to try it out. And probably nobody got hurt, probably. See, if I can just get a way to make the gears for the mechanism small enough it'll be a reliable way to set up traps beforehand without worrying about them going off at random times." She indicated a crazy sketch that probably meant something to her but to Sera just looked like a scribble that didn't even look like somebody's naughty bits. "And if you help me I think we might be able to find a way..."

She kept babbling and gesturing and Sera didn't know things about anything but she was so cute as she explained all the bits and bobs that went into the mechanism, and the tiny mage looked so delighted with thee distant explosion, that it made Sera's heart all warm and soppy like boiled milk. She gave Dagna a quick smooch. Dagna smooched back with barely even a break in her explaining.

As far as dwarves went, Sera had the best one ever.


End file.
